Dudley's Magical Son
by Yashee S
Summary: What would have happened if Dudley Dursley had a magical child? A drama based on how characters evolve under different circumstances.


"Mom! Dad!" Dudley's voice ricochetted.

"Where's my dear little smooshy boy?" Aunt Petunia asked in the most condescending of manners.

"Mom, I'm not little anymore." Dudley said, nervously patting his hair.

"She's not talking about you, Dudley boy!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed the house. "Our grandson, where is he —?"

If the day was darker, anyone could easily see Aunt Petunia's face turn snow-white. The drain of colors, although not so obvious, was as petrifying in the plump face of Uncle Vernon as his counterpart. Their mouths gaped for moments in silence. Only minutes later, you could hear Dudley's house trembling with pandemonium.

"Chaos! Mayhem!" Uncle Vernon shouted.

"You called . . . him?" Aunt Petunia leaned towards Dudley.

Stuttering, he started, "Well, yes . . . kinda. I mean Harry's the only one I know who could tell me anything."

"Don't you take his name in front of me! Don't you dare! And you, boy! How could this ever happen? You specifically said that my genes killed the last drop of magic in it!" Vernon Dursley screamed.

Harry stood scratching his head; out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, "Well, I also said that Dudley would never find anyone living to marry, now, didn't I?" Ginny, beside him, bit her tongue to muffle her giggles.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, BOY?"

Harry's hands instinctively went into his pocket. Looking around, he found Dudley's apologetic eyes begging in front of him. Composing himself, Harry added, "I meant, I only guessed. There was no hard science —"

"Treachery!" Aunt Petunia gave a sharp shriek. "Liar!"

"You fooled us!" Uncle Vernon was mad with anger as he approached Harry. Without a second thought, his wand was out, which met a second round of gasps and shrieks. Uncle Vernon stopped in his tracks, a certain mixture of fear and anger that boiled in purple.

His plump face returned its red color as he turned about. "I HAVE NO SON!" He stopped at the door to drag Petunia out, while he added, "AND CERTAINLY NO GRANDSON!" as the door slammed.

* * *

As Harry settled on the dining chair, a loud sound filled the area, making the most evil noise you could hear on a dining table - a fart.

"Albussssssss!" Harry shouted.

"It's Vernon - that little devil." Dudley corrected him. "Vernon Dursley Jr., come at once and apologize!"

A small plump boy, not quite very unlike Uncle Vernon himself, stepped up. "Sorry, Uncle Harry," he said keeping his head down and making circles with his one foot - the normal puppy eyes routine.

"It's alright, Vernon, go play with your dolls with Albus," Harry paused as they ran away giggling. "That's one sentence I thought I'd never say!" Both of them chuckle heartedly.

"James!" Ginny called out as dishes flew onto the dining table. "Dinner's here." A shriek was heard and Ginny turned in time to hang the falling dessert in air. Looking up, she saw a white Petunia gaping, as she suddenly realised her mistake. "Oh my God, I'm sorry," she said as she physically picked up the dessert, which met a weak nod from Aunt Petunia.

"So, let me get this straight," Harry started. "She's alright with wizards but still gasps at magic."

"She's alright with her _grandson._ But it will take time." Dudley muttered under his breath, intimidated if his mother overhears. "You should've seen her holding Vernon for the first time in her hands."

"Well, I have been blocking that sight since my childhood." Dudley looked at Harry, stumped. And the men fell down laughing. The images were just too much.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Carmel asked her husband. Dudley, in return, looked up in the mirror, and straightened his tie. He pulled his sleeves down and dusted his suit.

"Yes, there's no conflict, Carmy." he said smiling at his wife's reflection.

"But your father. He has finally started to talk to you. And your mother was so —"

"And doesn't it seem quite suspicious? The timing? Right when Vernon gets his letter to Hogwarts. It's obvious, he doesn't want us to send him." Carmel nodded, unsure of it all.

A familiar sound was heard on the driveway downstairs. Smiling, he picked Vernon up and ran down. He stopped midstairs to pant, as Vernon delightedly laughed. Vernon wasn't losing weight, that was for sure.

Half an hour later, they stepped into the alley. Things he had heard. Things that fascinated him. This was it — the Diagon Alley.

"OK," Harry said, clapping his hands. "Vernon gets his wand first. Albus? Run down with your cousin to the Olivanders. He will take care of the rest. Dudley, you're coming with me."

"Where?"

"Gringotts!"

"Cool!"

The two men left, as the two ladies broke away to look at the new winter collection of Madam Malkin's Robes. Two hours later, they all met at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"Dad! Could I get the owl?" Vernon shyly asked his father.

"Err —" his father stammered, "Well, just look at your hamster! Isn't he the cutest?"

"I guess, yeah," Vernon said slowly. Dudley put his hand in his pocket. The jingle was almost all lost. Times like these, he wished he had a better paying job. "Let's eat the delicious ice-cream, why don't we, Vernon?" His face lighted up.

"Well Vernon," Harry suddenly spoke up. "Ginny and I thought of gifting you a present. How would an owl do?" Vernon's face was up and about before time could have a meaning. Shyly, he looked away, hiding his big drawn smile, at his father. But Dudley was looking at Harry. His eyes confused. His eyes reflecting the light that fell. Harry soon caught his eye. He leaned closer, and whispered, "All the bird droppings and mid-night screeches? This is my revenge for every moment of my childhood."

Dudley's face contorted into a smile. A terribly ghastly smile which followed him his home.

As soon as they parked on the curb, Vernon jumped down and ran with his new owl. While Dudley took out the books they had bought, a shadow moved under the shade of tree behind him. Dudley moved towards it, but it only shook its head as it slammed the door of its car and revved the engine. With one last look, Uncle Vernon's face twisted in ways Dudley had never seen for himself — Hate.

* * *

"Whoa!" Dudley said as he emerged onto the platform 9 and three quarters. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed again.

"Vernon, did you see that?" But Vernon was already out of sight running with his suitcases towards Albus who was talking to a Harry bent on his knees tying his shoelaces. Dudley slowly moved towards him with his wife following. Taking in the view of the magnificent Hogwarts express. Harry seemed to be talking to Vernon all so excitedly. As he approached, his heavy body bumped into a lean redhead.

"Oi!" he heard a voice. "Look where you're —" the voice soon trailed off. Dudley looked at the source. The man was shocked for some reason. Stuttering, he looked at him and back at Ginny who stood a few steps behind. "Is he —?"

Ginny jumped up. "Ronald, meet Dudley. Dudley this is —"

"Oh, yeah, you're Ginny's—" he stuck out his tongue as Carmel slowly whispered something. "Brother! Of course!"

The handshake was firm, and it shook Ron all the way up and down. Hermione cheered to meet Carmel. There were smiles all around except one.

Rose Weasley was scowling. "What's the matter, Rose?" Albus asked seriously, mostly sarcastically.

"That's Dudley Dursley, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Well . . . ?"

"Well, isn't he the one who bullied Uncle Harry his entire childhood?"

"That's - that's a LIE!" Vernon screamed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Rose!"

"No, mom was telling me the other day. He was the reason he hated Privet Drive."

"Rose!" Ron shouted. "C'mon get inside the train!"

As the girl shifted, it seemed an awkward distance formed between them. They were never too close, anyway. But it seemed the ridge grew very apart. Was it exactly this time that Vernon realised that he had lost Albus?

* * *

"Weasley; Rose" "Gryffindor!" The house cheered loudly. James stood to make seat for her.

"Dursley; Vernon" "Gryffindor!" the house cheered but never so enthusiastically. Vernon didn't make anything of it that time.

"Potter; Albus" "Slytherin!" the Great Hall went into a complete silence. Albus sat frozen at the suddenness of it all. His heart beat fast. He looked around the hall, and each looked back, nervously. His eyes met Vernon's. And Vernon seemed as shocked as him. But Albus seemed to look a lot different then . . .

* * *

Things quickly changed routes from there. Students cowered as and when the two passed. The wands were almost out every second time. The prefects were restless as the corridors mostly formed a battleground for everyone.

It all had started when Vernon was met with a sharp tag of bully in his school. "Oh, Dursley, what you gonna do? Beat me up like your father?"

"Oh look, a Slytherin talks!" he would usually respond.

Albus proved a pain in the arse. He spread, or as Vernon heard, nasty tumors about the evil Dursley and the poor Potters. Gryffindor common room was mostly filled with blaming eyes at him, except perhaps Rose who had had another talk with Hermione before she left. Pity, mostly, she felt.

The classes were no different. Professor McGonagall had very obviously taken out her time to study Vernon before the class started. All because of the Potter? Should anyone be subjected to the torture?

Gossips flew all across the castle, as most teachers came to hear all about. What was the bloody matter? The only class that he genuinely liked was Charms. Professor Flitwick engaged his students enough for everyone to forget about it for a moment. Transfiguration wasn't bad. Professor McGonagall who had witnessed everything the closest, was condescending. But the very act of hers prompted the Slytherins to pass remarks - all obvious lies - at him.

If Vernon was given to write a book about his life, he would surely write: 'miserable', and close it away. He was a boy of very few words, anyway. His friends were not many to be actually counted. All in all, he wouldn't say this is how he imagined Hogwarts to be. Most of the time he practiced spells that he failed. Most of the time, he failed again. Magic didn't come so easy to him.

Even though he was one of the best in duelling spells (mostly because of so many duels with Albus), he only gained more reputation being a bully. Sometimes, he wondered if he wasn't one already . . .

* * *

"Dudley, this has got to stop. Talk to your son!" Harry screamed.

"Bloody well enough time! Better talk to yours now!" Dudley screamed back into his cellphone.

"I'm coming tomorrow!"

"DO!"

* * *

Uncle Vernon jerked awake. The chaos was unnerving. Without opening his eyes, he silently heard sitting in his backyard. The Sun was shining bright and the warmth fell soothingly on his closed eyes.

A disgust formed as he heard a familiar voice. Potter boy. But he was shouting. And Dudley was shouting back. They were fighting the fight of their life, a smile creeped up Uncle Vernon's face.

The chaos grew louder, there were mixed Aunt Petunia's short shrieks and Vernon Jr.'s deep seated but childish ones.

"Albus!" Vernon Jr. shouted. "We are done with."

"And so we are!" it seemed Albus shouted back.

The hate, the disgust seemed deeper than his own. Suddenly, Vernon Jr. said something so despicable that the house went silent. Uncle Vernon leaned back to listen, almost falling off the hedge.

"You don't need me?" Harry said.

"WE DON'T!" it seemed there was a unison of three voices. There was more of silence, and then a door slammed shut that shook the old Privet Drive.

Uncle Vernon straightened himself in his chair as he heard footsteps approaching. Small, quick steps clearly stopped behind him and then nervously moved forward to level with Uncle Vernon.

Keeping his eyes closed, he grunted, "What are you here for?"

"Err —" Vernon Jr. stammered. "To sit?"

"You can sit all you want. The branches block the sunlight. I am leaving —"

A flick of wand, and sun poured on him again. Uncle Vernon grunted, no different than the last, as Vernon Jr. proceeded to sit.

"We share the same name. I think that's cool." he said, a pithy attempt to start a conversation.

"You know you'll get in trouble for using . . . that thing, boy."

"I know," Vernon Jr. said as easily.

An ugly sneer cropped itself on his face. His grandson wasn't _that_ bad, after all.

* * *

"He's — he's smiling!" Dudley couldn't believe himself. "Harry, do you see it?"

"Yes, I do," Harry said from across the two-way mirror.

"Wow."

Grinning, he looked up at his son who was playing with some artifact in Harry's office. Albus looked up. "Now, what, dad?"

"Well, we visit Dudleys in the summer before the term starts. Christmas, they'll spend with —"

"No, I meant about Vernon. His dad did bully you, didn't he?"

Harry sighed. Moments like these made him realise that he was a father. "Well, Albus. It kinda works the other way. What people _are_ , defines them. Certainly not what they were, or would be. As for Vernon, I'm pretty sure Dudley gave him enough of a talk. He pretty well knows what bullying means. Nah, Vernon will jump right back on track!"

"But then Vernon's grandfather?"

"Well, family's family after all, you know." Harry shrugged. "As long as I don't have to meet him, I've no problem."

Albus gave a reassuring smile. As he took the mirror himself. He studied as Vernon and his grandfather laughed at something — nasty, anyone can be sure of that. He was tired of it all the fights, too. May be that's the way to go.

Harry hopped into his seat. He ensured that Vernon Jr. could have that little piece of magic without consequences. He looked at Albus, smiling. Maybe he wasn't bad as a father after all. He suddenly smiled himself.

All was well.

* * *

 **A/N: No Potterheads were harmed during the making of this fanfic.**

 **Do leave a review! New to this site, I'll bloody cry at even one review.**

 **Always.**


End file.
